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decided to bolt. He tried to ignore the images, which flashed through his mind, of them plunging over the cliff.
    When they were no more than fifteen metres from the edge, Anne brought the carriage to a halt.
    “Is this it?” Tom looked around.
    “Nearly. Can you grab the basket?”
    Tom did as she asked, and then followed her towards the cliff's edge. Although he didn't have a problem with heights, he wasn't over enthusiastic at the idea of eating a picnic perched on the edge of a cliff. He didn't spot the narrow, winding path which led to the beach until Anne began to lead the way down.
     
    “This is a beautiful spot,” Tom said once they'd reached the bottom of the path.
    “It's my favourite place on the island. The only way to get onto this stretch of beach is from the sea or by the path we've just come down. I like to come here when I want to get away from everyone.”
    “I could always leave.” Tom smiled.
    “I didn't mean you. I'm glad you came with me.”
    “Is here okay?” he asked.
    “A little further down. There's something I want to show you.”
    “Lead the way, madam.”
    Anne walked another fifty metres along the beach, and then stopped near a small rock pool.
    “Just here,” she said.
    “What was it you wanted to show me?” He laid the blanket on the sand, and opened the basket.
    “You'll have to wait a while.”
    “What for?”
    “Are you always so impatient?” She smiled.
     
    **************
     
    The picnic turned out to be a feast.
    “Did you make these?” Tom held up a huge scone.
    “No, Mum made them.”
    “They're delicious,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs.
    “Shhhh!” Anne put a finger to her lips.
    Tom looked around—trying to figure out why she was shushing him.
    “What?” he mouthed.
    Anne pointed out to sea.
    “I can't see anything,” he whispered. “Oh, wait a minute... ”
    He turned to face Anne.
    “Is that... ?” He dare hardly speak.
    She nodded.
    Just then, another small head broke the surface of the water. Then a third and a fourth.
    “Wow!” he mouthed.
    The two of them watched the seals as they came closer to the shore. Tom held his breath; he was afraid if he breathed too loud he might spook them.
    Just as it seemed they would come ashore, they disappeared from sight.
    “What happened?” Tom said.
    “Something must have scared them.”
    “I thought they were going to come onto the beach.”
    “They do sometimes. Not for long though.”
    “What's this place called?”
    “Its official name is Whiteside Bay, but I call it Secret Cove.”
    “I like your name better. Thanks for sharing your secret with me.”
    He stared out to sea, and appeared lost in his thoughts.
    “I'm sorry I didn't go to church with you,” he said at last.
    “That's okay. Maybe in time.”
    “I don't think so. The memories are too painful.”
    Anne nodded. She hoped that, one day, he would feel differently.
    “Susan was killed in a hit and run accident,” he said, turning back to face Anne.
    She had no idea what to say.
    “I haven't told many people.”
    “I'm so sorry.” She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but wasn't sure if she should. “That's terrible.”
    “They caught the driver. He'd been drunk at the time of the accident.”
    Anne waited for him to continue.
    “It was so needless. Such a waste of life.” Tom stood up, picked up a large stone, and skimmed it out to sea.
    “I'm sorry to unload on you like this,” he said, trying to force a smile.
    “It's okay.” She stood up. “Honestly. I'm glad you told me.”

Chapter 14
     
     
     They spent the entire afternoon at Secret Cove. The seals didn't show themselves again, but that didn't seem to matter. The weather was perfect, the location was perfect, and the company—likewise. Anne was surprised she could talk so openly with Tom—after all, she'd known him for little over a week. It felt longer—it felt as though she'd known him all her life. Since Susan's death, Tom hadn't had a real